Let the Light Shine Down
by Kirishtu
Summary: Shattrath is an eclectic city where many people from all walks of life gather. Malacai has lived there for a long time, and knows the ins and outs of the city. When someone new arrives, Malacai's decision sets a chain of events into motion that will change his life forever. A request for Unicorn Chronicles.


Business was slow today, he decided. Malacai wandered through Shattrath, studying the myriad people there, watching agents of the Alliance and Horde go about their business in one form or another, as well as the normal residents of the Draenei city go about their day. The black-clad rogue lounged in the shadow of the Terrace of Light, watching people file in and out without ever really noticing him half-crouched there. Suited him just fine, because it allowed him to study people and decide if it'd be worth stalking them in order to take whatever it was they had worth taking. Not that the locals had much. It was the adventurers who had the best haul, but they were also the most dangerous. Malacai was no stranger to danger - he was a thief, after all, and a very accomplished one if he could say so - but adventurers tended to hit first and ask questions later, and they hit to kill.

Malacai blew a breath out and watched the black strands of his hair flutter. The messy ponytail he normally kept his hair in would have to be fixed at some point, but not now. His blue eyes scanned the tall Draenei that walked about the city as enforcers of the peace, but they ignored him. As long as he wasn't _obviously_ going about doing thief things, they mostly left him alone.

Finally bored, Malacai rose from his spot and began to wander toward the heart of Shattrath. Or was, until the flash of white caught his eye. Malacai slowly pivoted on his heel and changed course to actually enter the Terrace of Light, seeking out that flash of white, or had it been silver? He paused when he saw the blonde-haired paladin kneeling just ahead, the man's head down, eyes closed, hands clasped together in familiar fashion. Malacai rubbed his jaw, wandering why anyone would come here of all places to pray to the Light. Then the question was tossed right out of his mind when he saw the coin purse hanging from the paladin's belt. His body stiffened as his thoughts began to run a mile a minute, already looking for guards. The paladin was so deep in prayers that he didn't even hear the young rogue approaching, padding softly on leather-soled black boots.

Malacai paused out of arm's length of the paladin. He watched him for a long moment, but all the paladin did was breathe, in and out, slowly. Malacai breathed too, in and out, matching the paladin's breathing inhale and exhale. Only then did Malacai step forward, toe to heel, and then he crouched, slowly, and wrapped his fingers around the coin purse in such a way that the coins didn't clink together when he lifted the pouch. Carefully, he used one of his daggers to cut the strings holding the pouch to the paladin's belt and rocked back lightly on his heels to put some distance between him and the paladin. Malacai sheathed his dagger and rose, grinning widely. Just from the weight of the pouch in his hand, he could tell that this haul would allow him to pay down some debts _and_ be able to get something to eat for the next two weeks while he looked for another job.

An iron grip locked onto his wrist.

Malacai jerked and jumped back as far as his arm would allow because that iron grip wouldn't release him. Malacai stared at the plate-armored hand locked around his wrist, followed it up a plate-armored arm, and then into the face of the paled in who had been only a minute ago enthralled in his prayer.

The paladin's face was blank, emotionless. Not even his green eyes showed what he was thinking or feeling. Strong jawed with a beard that went all around his upper lip and covered just his chin, the paladin just stared at the smaller, slighter rogue and tightened his grip a little more. His long blonde hair was pulled back in a ponytail that resembled King Varian's, and not a hair was out of place. It wasn't hard to tell which of the two humans was the victim here.

"Uh," started Malacai.

"Give it back." said the paladin, his voice deep and almost rumbling.

"Give what back?" Malacai asked, fighting to keep his voice from shaking. The paladin's hand was still locked around his wrist and wouldn't let go.

The paladin's face never betrayed his emotions. There was no hint of anger or exasperation. Not even a raised brow and a pointed look at the pouch Malacai hadn't even bother to hide behind his back. "My money. Give it back."

"I-"

"Don't lie."

Malacai swallowed his words. That deep voice echoed in his head and made his body shake. Or maybe it was because the older man was still _touching_ him. The coins now seemed to clink audibly, loudly, as Malacai shifted his other hand. "I found it. I was coming to return it, honest."

Now an elegant brow lifted. "Give it back, then. If you had it back to me, there won't be any reason for this to go beyond us."

Malacai flicked his gaze to the Aldor guards now making their slowly way toward them. He swallowed. "Fine." he said at last. "Fine. Here. Now will you let go of me?" He jerked on his trapped wrist, but the paladin still held tight.

He held tight even as he tucked his coin pouch into his belt, out of sight. He held tight to the rogue's wrist as he met the boy's gaze again, watching those blue eyes flick nervously between his captor and the guards slowly approaching. Aerin considered himself a pretty good judge of character, and he knew that Malacai, the rogue he'd caught pilfering his purse, was quite nervous. _Probably thinks I'm going to tell the guards._

"I'll let go,"Aerin told the young thief, "on one condition."

Malacai licked his lips. "And what's that?"

"Promise me you'll never steal again. It's a dangerous practice, and your skills would be better served elsewhere, serving others, rather than serving yourself."

Malacai blinked at the paladin, and it was clear the rogue didn't believe what Aerin was saying. He glanced at the approaching guards, then back at Aerin, and nodded. "Okay, okay. I promise."

Aerin's eyes searched the rogues face, but those blue eyes were becoming more and more panicked the longer he held onto the boy's wrist.

The rogue was gone the moment Aerin released him. The paladin took a deep breath and let it out slowly through his nose. He nodded at the two guards as they passed by, then turned a little to warm his face in the Light one last time. Aerin left then, slowly walking to collect Jewels, his white hawkstrider, from the tether outside. He hefted his shield onto his back, catching strange looks for it. He ignored them, as he always did. No one really understood why he kept the shield, and Aerin wasn't inclined to tell them. He let them believe what they wanted and let the whispers roll off him like water rolled off Jewels' feathers. He glanced around the Terrace to see if the rogue was still around, but saw nothing. So he mounted Jewels, and urged to ride back to the Scryer's Tier Inn where he was currently staying.

His thoughts were focused on the boy from earlier. "Boy" was probably the wrong term for the rogue, but he had a young face, clean-shaven or perhaps never touched by hair in the first place. Aerin tossed his satchel and coin purse onto his bed, then carefully removed his shield and sword, setting them on the rack meant to hold them. Then he removed his armor and set it carefully on the floor beneath his shield and sword. The protection paladin stretched his stiff muscles, then rubbed his face with a long sigh. The rogue. The boy.

When he'd first arrived in Shattrath, Aerin had been warned to keep an eye on his valuables if he didn't want to lose them. He'd followed the advice, but today, he't let is coin purse stay out in plain view. He hadn't known why until he'd heard the barely audible approach. The Light had warned him as it always did, but he hadn't felt like he'd been in danger. Aerin hadn't known he'd been robbed until he'd whipped around and grabbed the rogue before he managed to escape. Aerin could still feel the heat of the boy's wrist on his fingers, could still see the mounting fear in the boy's blue eyes. Fear that he'd been caught, or something else Aerin didn't know. That the kid was good wasn't in question; Aerin had meant it he'd said the rogue's skill would be useful for more than stealing. But there was something about the rogue that made Aerin worry, that made the paladin wonder if the boy would live to reach the age of-

Was that smoke?

Aerin moved to his window and pushed open the shutter. Now the smell of smoke was stronger, and he could see down into Lower City. There was a bright glow from there, and shouts and cries were drifting up to Aerin's window from Lower City. The paladin was already moving, grabbing his sword and shield, belting both on as he left the inn. Jewels squawked at him as he pulled her away from her dinner, but after he mounted, she obediently trotted away from th Scryer's Tier Inn toward Lower City.

It wasn't hard to find the origin of the fire. There was a crowd of people, some watching, others doing a half-assed job of helping put out the fire, or at least protect the other homes around the one on fire as they waited for the flames to burn themselves out. Aerin dismounted and walked toward the burning flames. There was no one inside the building, or so the Light told him, so Aerin stopped just at the fringe of the heat given off by the orange fire and watched the shack burn.

"Who's place?"

Aerin's ears sharpened at the whisper. He didn't turn his head, didn't give any indication that he was listening. Two Lower City dwellers stood nearby, one looking smug with himself.

"Malacai's. The little rogue bastard's late on his payment."

"You know he had till sundown tomorrow."

"I stepped up the schedule." said the dirty looking troll, laughing a minute after.

Aerin curled his hands into fists, but his face betrayed nothing. The two took off a minute later, but Aerin didn't follow. Couldn't, because at that moment, the rogue from before appeared out of the shadows cast by the flames. The apple he held to his mouth suddenly fell to the ground. Aerin moved at the same time the rogue did, and before the boy could even get close, Aerin wrapped around an arm around the rogue's chest and pulled him backwards.

"No!" yelled Malacai. "Let me go! Let me go! That's my house! That's my place! Everything I have is in there! Dammit, let me go!"

"If you go in there," Aerin said, "you'll die."

"I don't care! Let go!"

"Malacai."

The rogue stopped struggling, stared at Aerin with wide eyes. "H-how do you know my name?"

"I guessed. My name is Aerin." Again there was fear beginning int he boy's blue eyes. Aerin held him tight. "Malacai, you can't go in there. The fire will kill you if the smoke doesn't first."

"I don't give a damn, you shitty paladin! Everything I own is in there!" Malacai spat.

"I understand that."

"So let go!"

"No."

Malacai glared at him, but his body was shaking. Aerin still didn't let go, even though he could feel the slighter body tensing to the point muscles could snap at the slightest twitch. Malacai's glare weakened quickly and he looked away from Aerin and back to the raging fire. Those tense shoulders slumped in defeat.

Aerin relaxed his hold but didn't fully let go of Malacai. "Come back to the inn with me. Get some sleep. We'll come back tomorrow to search through the remains."

Malacai looked at Aerin as if the paladin had just promised him his weight in gold and then some. Those blue eyes were still filled with something but Aerin wasn't sure what. Finally, the rogue nodded. He said nothing.

"I'm going to let you go now." Aerin said. The moment he took his hands off the rogue, the boy stepped away and put distance between them. He didn't run toward the burning house, though. "Follow me."

Aerin kept a close eye on Malacai as they left Lower City and the fire behind. The Scryers gave the pair furtive looks as Aerin tethered Jewels and led Malacai into the inn. Malacai seemed dispondent, distracted, and tensed as Aerin went to close the window, cutting off the sight of the glow of the fire, and weakening the scent of smoke. He unbuckled his sword and shield and placed them on the rack, then turned to Malacai. "You can have the bed."

Malacai looked at Aerin sharply. "I-it's fine. I can-"

"Take the bed." Aerin said again, his stoic mask breaking for a moment for a slight smile. "It's fine. I promise, nothing will happen to you. Just sleep."

"But-"

Aerin moved. Malacai's eyes went wide and he shifted to put the bed between them. Aerin paused, placed a hand on the desk chair he stood beside. The rogue stared at him, face pale beneath his mop of dark hair. Aerin pulled the chair out of its place and propped it in the corner furthest from the bed. "Just get some sleep, Malacai. It'll make the morning come faster."

Aerin sat in the chair and wrapped his arms over his chest. He watched Malacai for a long moment, then closed his eyes. After a moment, there was the rustle of cloth and Aerin cracked his eyes open slightly to watch Malacai crawl under the quilt on Aerin's bed. The paladin waited long minutes, waiting to make sure Malacai had completely relaxed before he rose to blow out the lantern, immersing them in darkness.

Dawn came too fast it seemed. Aerin managed to keep Malacai from rushing out into the glaring morning light. Aerin pulled on his armor, sword, and shield, and then followed Malacai down to Lower City and the remains of the rogue's home. Malacai launched himself onto the ashes, digging fast and furiously. Aerin stood on the edge for a moment, watching the boy furiously dig.

"Taking on charity cases?" called a guard.

Aerin slashed a clare at the guard. The Draenei held up his hands in surrender and hurried on his way. Malacai, who'd been watching the exchange, shivered at the glower plastered on the normally stoic paladin's face. Then he turned back to digging before Aerin stalked toward the ruins and began helping him look for anything salvageable.

Malacai attacked each section of ash and debris with a single-minded intensity. He didn't care about the cups he unearthed or the remains of a leather bag he'd saved enough gold to buy. The only thing he needed to find was a small metal box. It contained everything he ever cared about, everything he considered valuable. Everything he loved was left in that little box-

-and he _couldn't find it!_

Malacai threw something, it might've been a pot, with enough force that it made his shoulder hurt. His eyes burned with furstrated tears. His chest hurt, his body ran hot and cold, and then the tears spilled over, running down his face as sadness replaced frustration. Despair clung to his soul like thick black sludge. It was gone. It was gone! If it wasn't slag, someone had taken it. It was the only explanation he could think of that made sense to his grief-stricken mind. He took a deep, shuddering breath and tried to stop his tears. It took some time, but he finally got his emotions under control.

Only to have that control break when he turned around and saw Aerin standing on the ruined part of his house where his bedroom used to be, looking through the small metal box and the contents within.

Malacai was by Aerin's side in a heartbeat, and he snatched the box from the paladin's hands. He ignored Aerin's startled look and quickly scanned the contents of the box. Everything was there, every last memory and gold piece, and Malacai gave a hiccuping gasp of joy as he hugged the box to his chest. Aerin watched in stoic silence, confused but not saying anything as he watched the boy cry silently in joy as he hugged that box to his chest even tighter. Aerin looked away, giving the boy time to pull himself together. He stepped away to start looking for something else to occupy himself.

"T-thank you."

The words were soft, almost whispered. Aerin looked at Malacai and nodded. "Welcome."

"No. Really." Malacai swallowed. "Thank you."

Aerin blinked and nodded again. He turned his attention back to the ruins of Malacai's house. "Is there anything else you need to find?"

"I... uh... I could look."

They spent the rest of the morning trying to salvage what they could, and the entire time Malacai held that box tight to his chest with one hand. When they were satisfied - when Malacai was satisfied - Aerin hefted the satchel of stuff over his shoulder and, together, they returned to the inn. Aerin dropped the bag on the floor and watched Malacai gingerly set the box in his arms on the floor, then sit in front of it, blocking Aerin's view of the contents. Though, Aerin didn't need to se what was in there, since he'd seen it, briefly, that morning.

He removed his shield and set it on the stand. Without looking at the rogue, Aerin said, "If you want, you can stay with me until you find another place."

The atmosphere in the room changed, and Aerin knew Malacai had tensed at the words.

Then, "Does that mean I get the bed?"

"I suppose we can work out a deal."

Silence.

Aerin looked toward Malacai now. The boy was tense, frozen. Aerin let out a soft breath. "I was joking."

Malacai relaxed, but only a little. "Oh."

Aerin shook his head slowly and looked back at his shield. "Though I will take a pillow. I'm sure the floor will be more comfortable than a chair."

Malacai bit his lower lip until it was sore. "I guess so."

"Not much of a talker, are you?"

Malacai looked at Aerin, then back at the box. Aerin sighed softly. "Just don't take anything that's mine, kid."

"Don't call me that."

"Malacai, then." Aerin lifted his shield and adjusted it just to give himself something to do. Malacai laughed softly, but it was a tense, nervous laugh.

"I won't be here long." Malacai said softly. "Promise."

"Leave when you're ready." Aerin said. "I don't mind the extra company."

Another nervous laugh. "Still," Malacai said, "better I find a place of my own, so you aren't bothered by my tendencies."

"What, stealing?"

"Well... yeah."

Aerin turned to look toward Malacai. "You promised you wouldn't do that anymore."

Malacai gave the paladin a nervous laugh. "Well, I, uh..."

"Lied."

"Yeah, that's it."

Aerin sighed. "Maybe finding a place of your own wouldn't be so bad."

Only Malacai couldn't find a new place, at least one he could afford. The days passed in achingly slow moments, the rogue and paladin seeing more and more of each other. Aerin still kept his distance from Malacai, but the rogue watched the paladin's normally stoic visage crack more and more often, smiles and laughter here and there. But it was only when they were alone, in their room. And Malacai could feel himself relaxing around the older man than he had around anyone before. He also found himself tensing less and less when Aerin came close, although the paladin never touched him. It was a few weeks later when Malacai realized he'd stopped actively looking for a new place to live, and had started living with Aerin in that little inn room. Aerin never said anything about it, but Malacai was sure Aerin knew the rogue wasn't doing more than wandering Shattrath's streets until sundown and returning to share in an evening meal and attempt to talk before turning in for the night.

Tonight was much the same, although there was something different in the air. Malacai wondered if it was because Aerin was cleaning his shield and had the window open so the smell of solvent wouldn't stink up the room, but having the window open brought in the scents from Lower City, the spices and murmurs from the market and night dwellers. Malacai was watching him, sitting on the floor like he usually did when Aerin had the bed. The rogue watched in fascination at the attention Aerin gave to that shield, and caught himself wondering what it would be like to have those hands on him, touching him as they touched that shield. Cheeks burning, Malacai looked away.

"It was given to me."

"Huh?"

Aerin smiled. "This shield. It was given to me."

"By who?"

Another smiled bloomed on the paladin's face, a fond smile, one of remembrance. "A friend of mine. Said I needed a good shield, one made for battle and for other things. So, she gave me this one."

"She was a blood elf?"

"She was."

"Thought they were our enemies."

Aerin frowned a little. "They aren't mine. I grew up not far from Stormwind, and when I was little, I watched those paladins ride to war against the orcs. Right then, I knew exactly what I wanted to be when I got older. When I came of age, I joined the order of the paladins, and she was my teacher. No one trusted her on account of her race, but that never bothered her. Our duty, she told me, was to protect those who couldn't protect themselves. Not hate each other just because I have round ears and hers are pointed." Aerin smiled fondly at the memory. "My parents were shocked when I came home bearing this shield, but it's saved me more times than I care to admit. I wouldn't give it up for anything."

Malacai looked at the box he'd set on one of the shelves above the dresser near the bathroom. "Yeah," he said softly. "I understand."

Aerin's silence invited him to share, so Malacai got to his feet and retrieved the box. He moved to the bed and sat down on the edge of the mattress, holding the box in his hands. "What's in here," he began softly, "belonged to my mother. Every piece in here was something me or my sister got Mom on her birthday or just to make her smile. I loved her so much, her and my little sis."

"Where was your father?"

Malacai sucked in a breath. "Around. We... didn't get _along_." The rogue almost spat the word out. "He always thought I was too smart for my own good but that didn't stop him from teaching me things. Really, I watched him do things, and _improved_ on his lessons."

There was a beat of silence. Malacai continued, "We lived a pretty good life, I guess. We had a little pumpkin farm in Elwynn Forest. Didn't do much, but it was home. Mom always had snacks waiting when I got home from school, or a new piece of clothing that really wasn't new, just mended, but I pretended it was new. Most times, I stayed in my room, or-"

"He hit you, didn't he?"

A flash of cold rushed through Malacai at those words, forcing him to acknowledge a truth he didn't want to say. He glanced at Aerin, but saw nothing revealing on that handsome face. Just that normal, stoic face. "...Beating's a more accurate word." Malacai croaked.

There. A flash of anger in those green eyes. Malacai swallowed hard. Closed his eyes because it was easier that way. The words spilled out, like flood waters breaking a dam that had held for years, the stories of Malacai's childhood coming out in that lamp-lit little room. In almost whispers, Malacai talked about his father, about the man's temper, how growing up he had to learn to tread softly lest he provoke his father into a rage. It might've been a little easier to cope with had his father simply beat him, but the man went far beyond beating. He tortured the young Malacai, tortured his mother and sister. He did things to his own family that Aerin had only seen in battle. Malacai's voice broke during the story of his sister he'd been telling, how the little girl had been subjected to hot nails being pressed to her fragile skin as her brother watched helplessly, and Malacai began to cry, unable to hold back the emotion anymore. Aerin shifted, his arms coming up. He hesitated for a brief moment, then he wrapped his arms around the boy and pulled them tight.

Malacai cried into Aerin's chest, unable to form words anymore. All the sorrow and terror and years of nightmares pushed back into the depths of his mind came out in a rush now, every hurt pouring out with his tears. Each wound received was relived, each soul-sickening moment brought back to the fore. Malacai clutched to Aerin, pressing his face into Aerin's chest and crying all the harder.

Aerin stroked Malacai's head, neck, and shoulders. He whispered words meant to comfort but were barely heard by the boy crying in the shelter of his arms. The paladin rocked slowly from side to side, stroking Malacai's shoulders to try and comfort and calm the rogue. Finally, Aerin cupped his hand beneath Malacai's chin and tilted his head up, pressing gentle lips to those tears, kissing them away.

It was after the last kiss, the light one pressed to Malacai's lips, that the rogue managed to stop crying. He hiccuped softly, eyes fluttering open despite them feeling puffy. He looked into the green eyes of Aerin, slowly becoming aware of the warmth of the paladin against him, and the lingering heat from the man's lips on his own. Malacai shivered, but he didn't tense. Aerin stroked Malacai's cheek and kissed him again, softly, demanding nothing. Aerin pulled back and rested his forehead against Malacai's. "I'm sorry."

"Why?" Malacai asked softly. "You didn't know anything about me."

"No. But I'm still sorry. And I'm glad you escaped him."

Another hiccup, a bitter laugh. "Not by choice."

"What do you mean?"

Malacai closed his eyes against a fresh wave of pain. "They were killed. All of them. Murdered. I escaped because I wasn't _there_. I'd run away that morning... I'm not sure what I was going to actually do... but when I came back..." He felt sick at the memory of his little sister, her throat torn open and her sightless eyes looking at him, accusing him of leaving her. "Never found out who, but..."

"I see."

Malacai opened his eyes to look at Aerin. Those words weren't idly said, Malacai realized. Aerin had said them because he _did_ see; he understood exactly what Malacai meant. And when those green eyes focused on him, Malacai saw nothing in those eyes but love and understanding. And that meant more than anything to Malacai. So the rogue leaned in to Aerin and kissed him, lightly, on the lips.

Aerin lifted his hand and cupped Malacai's cheek, returning the kiss. For a while, the kiss was soft and gentle, and then, Malacai moved just a little closer and Aerin deepened the kiss, his tongue sliding into Malacai's mouth when the rogue parted his lips to suck in a breath. The kiss became hotter, rougher, and the two pushed closer to one another, almost flush against each other.

Aerin moved his hand and lid it down Malacai's chest before he slid it under the rogue's shirt. At the first touch of flesh on flesh, Malacai sucked in a breath and his body tightened, stiffening. It took some soft murmured words and soft kisses to help Malacai relax, and only after he'd completely become boneless did Aerin move his hand, sliding the pads of his fingers up over the muscles of Malacai's stomach to his chest. He ghosted his thumbs over Malacai's nipples, felt them and the body that owned them stiffen. Aerin was about to whisper for Malacai to relax when the boy let out a soft moan that barely registered as noise to Aerin's ears.

Aerin laughed softly and moved his other hand under Malacai's shirt, his mouth finding its way to the rogue's throat, kissing the place flesh gently as his fingers tweaked Malacai's nipples into hardened buds.

"Don't laugh," Malacai panted, his vision of his paladin obscured briefly as Aerin pulled off the rogue's shirt.

"I'm not laughing." Aerin replied, pressing kisses to Malacai's chest now that it was exposed.

"Yes, you are."

"No. I'm admiring you."

Malacai gasped instead of answering, as Aerin's lips brushed against his stomach and belly button. He gripped the paladin's blonde ponytail and tugged, earning a grunt and a light bite to his stomach. Aerin moved his hand and worked to open Malacai's belt, then his pants, slipping his hand inside. Malacai gasped again as Aerin's hand wrapped around his cock, giving it a light squeeze. The rogue shivered and leaned over Aerin as the paladin continued to shower nips and kisses to Malacai's stomach, his hand wrapping more firmly around the boy's cock and moving up and down, over and over, slowly.

Aerin shifted, bringing his head back up to kiss Malacai, a hot, searing kiss that made the rogue shiver and become harder, made Aerin suck in a breath as lighting sizzled down his spine and into his own growing erection. Malacai moved at last, his hands scrabbling at Aerin's shirt to get it off. His fingers slid over tanned and scarred flesh, memorizing every dip in Aerin's body. His fingers brushed over the paladin's chest, tweaking his nipples as his had been tweaked, then traveled lower. His fingertips brushed over the belt Aerin wore, then managed to get a hold of it to open it.

Aerin pushed Malacai backwards on to the bed and pulled the rogue's pants off, leaving the younger man naked beneath him. Aerin moved, covering Malacai with his body and kissing him again, kneeling over the rogue so he could remove the rest of his own clothing. Naked, he pressed his body against Malacai's. That action earned a rough moan from both of them, their cocks brushing against each other and sending lightning skating through their blood.

Their movements became a little more frantic then, heated and searing, leaving them breathless as they moved against one another.

"Roll over." Aerin said almost harshly. When Malacai hesitated, Aerin smiled and whispered, "Trust me. I won't hurt you."

Swallowing, Malacai obeyed, rolling onto his stomach. Aerin kissed the back of his neck and shoulders, trailing down to his spine and then to the curve of his lower back. Aerin urged Malacai to rise to his knees, and as soon as the rogue complied, Aerin parted Malacai's ass-cheeks and slid his tongue between them, touching lightly to the pucker of muscle there. Malacai gasped and twitched, but Aerin held him tight by the hips. He pressed his tongue harder against that tight pucker, feeling it part beneath his ministrations. Aerin moved his hand and added a finger to his tongue, then another, stretching the tight muscle and pushing deeper his tongue and fingers. His ears picked up the sounds Malacai was making, the hand still on the boy's hips feeling the twitches and jerks elicited by Aerin's ministrations.

"Aerin," Malacai gasped quietly, almost whimpering.

"Shh," Aerin responded, pulling back and positioning himself behind Malacai. He took hold of his own cock and pressed the head of it to Malacai's hole. He rolled his hips forward, expecting the resistance he met and therefore moving slowly. Both men groaned as Aerin finally sheathed himself inside Malacai.

Aerin reached and twined his fingers with Malacai's pulling back slightly and pushing back in. Malacai tightened his fingers around Aerin's and whimpered as he felt his paladin's cock slide deeper inside him. Aerin slowly picked up his pace, moving in and out of his rogue. As his pace became harder and rougher, he pulled Malacai up and back into his lap, impaling him even deeper. The rhythm they kept then was slow and easy, with Malacai controlling how fast or slow they went. It was only after the rogue gasped and tightened slightly that Aerin took over the pace, pushing Malacai back to his hands and knees and thrusting into him hard enough to make the room echo with the sound of flesh slapping flesh and their cries.

Malacai mewled as Aerin's hand wrapped around his cock and stroked in time with his thrusts. Malacai shivered and shook and moaned as his body tightened even more. Aerin was panting against his shoulder, his own body growing tighter and tighter as his own limit grew closer and closer. Malacai's body finally tensed and he cried out as he came, his muscles clamping down on Aerin's cock and pulsing with his heartbeat as his own cock jumped in Aerin's hold. Hot white ribbons coated Aerin's hand and the bedsheets beneath him. Aerin sucked in a breath as his body betrayed him at last, and his orgasm rolled through him hard. He thrust up into Malacai one last time before he came, filling his lover with his seed.

They slumped against each other, panting harshly. Only when their hearts slowed and their bodies calm did they managed to muster enough energy to separate. Aerin stretched out on the bed and opened his arms; Malacai crawled into them and snuggled close, pillowing his head on Aerin's shoulders. They spent a few moments in silence, Aerin hugging Malacai close.

"I told you your skills would be better served elsewhere." Aerin said softly.

Malacai laughed quietly. "I haven't even begun to show you my skills yet."

Aerin smiled. "I guess we'll have to change that."

Malacai returned the smile. "My skills are needed, after all."


End file.
